


little things

by ionlyloveyouironically



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyloveyouironically/pseuds/ionlyloveyouironically
Summary: Each chapter is a small drabble showing a tender moment in Neil and Andrew's life.





	1. Chapter 1

Andrew hasn’t slept since Thursday night. It’s the only fact with any physical weight to him at the moment, as he sits on the windowsill with his forehead against the chilly glass. The living room is mostly dark, tinted with the greenish hue that comes before pre-dawn, and he stares out over the park as the sky steadily lightens with morning.

Friday night’s game had tired him out, but somehow he’d gotten only an hour of sleep before his brain dropkicked him into reluctant consciousness. There hadn’t been any nightmares, for once. He just... couldn’t sleep. And now, early Sunday morning, he feels the crash coming upon him, an unwelcome reminder of over a decade ago when his life was dictated by little white pills.

He doesn’t even have enough energy to be properly maudlin. The only things on his mind are his aching eyes, his warm bed, and Neil sleeping peacefully in it. He lurches into standing, and heads for the bedroom.

Their condo is large, larger than the two of them need really, but the cats appreciate the extra space. It’s paid for mostly by Andrew, but it’s the one he wanted, even though Neil had tried to reason him into one of the more modest choices their realtor had prepared for them. Andrew had figured that if he could afford the best choice, why not get it? Neil had issues when it came to spending a lot of money on things for himself, issues that Andrew didn’t have the patience to work through, so he put it all on his account and dealt with the fallout later.

Their bedroom is the largest one out of three; it sits on the corner of the building with large windows along two walls that offer a _gorgeous view of the surrounding area,_ according to their realtor. Andrew hadn’t cared for the view and instead had hung up blackout curtains to allow him to sleep in without interruption from the sun.

How ironic.

Neil had pulled open one of the curtains sometime in the night, or maybe before he’d gone to sleep. Andrew didn't know; he hadn't bothered going to the bedroom at all last night, fully aware he wouldn't be able to sleep. The window adjacent to the bed is uncovered, letting in the bluish light of the very early morning. It makes the scars on Neil’s body look softer somehow, less harsh and more like they’re a part of him instead of remnants of his past that linger unwanted in his skin.

Andrew likes Neil’s scars. He’s never told him, and he never plans to, but it's the truth. They don’t repulse him or make him uncomfortable. To Andrew, they’re badges, trophies that show _this is what was done to me_ and _this is what I survived_. Neil doesn’t hide them anymore, and Andrew’s glad for it, both because his shame was intensely aggravating and because this way he gets to see more of Neil’s body on a regular basis.

Neil has mellowed out since their college days, and usually Andrew can sneak into bed without waking Neil up, but today he’s exhausted and more clumsy than usual. The bed bounces more than planned as he finally lays down and pulls the comforter over his cold body, and Neil makes a low sound and scoots closer to Andrew. He always runs warm and only ever covers up with the sheet, which now is pooled across the small of his back, leaving everything above open for scrutiny by Andrew.

Andrew lifts a trembling hand and sets it in the middle of Neil’s back, his eyes roaming over the patchwork quality of his skin. The scarring isn’t as severe as his front, but it is still very significant. His eyes half close as his fingers move unchecked, following along the seams in his skin as if trying to find the proper route on a roadmap. It’s soothing to him, somehow, like petting the cats is to Neil. Neil makes a noise low in his throat again in contentment, and Andrew almost rolls his eyes at how apt the analogy is.

“Why are you playing with my back?” Neil asks, voice rough from sleep. He’s been awake since Andrew got in bed, Andrew knows, and anyway there’s comfortable amusement in his tone.

“Not your back,” Andrew replies, voice uncooperative in his tired haze. “You gave it to me.”

“And then you gave it back, remember?” His face is still turned away from Andrew, but there’s something more in his tone now that Andrew can’t parse at the moment. Later.

He drums his fingers on Neil’s shoulder blade. “No takebacks,” he says, childishly. Neil shifts slightly, and switches which side of his head is pressed against the pillow so that he faces Andrew. He’s more awake and functional than Andrew is at this point, but the look on his face makes Andrew pinch his skin and close his eyes in irritation.

He can Neil move beneath his hand as he laughs his weird little hitching-breath giggle. Maybe he’s not as awake as Andrew thought, but that only makes the idea of falling asleep better. Who needs a space heater when Neil Josten is laying right next to you?

The blankets rustle. “Are you asleep?” Neil asks, right in front of his face.

Andrew runs his hand over the expanse of Neil’s back once more before letting it rest across the small of it under the sheet and tugs him closer, just enough that their noses brush. “Not yet,” he breathes, and then falls asleep at last.


	2. Chapter 2

Andrew doesn’t move from his perch on the kitchen counter when he hears the crunch of a key in the front door of Neil’s apartment. He stays hunched over, flicking the 2048 blocks this way and that, even when Neil stumbles when toeing his shoes off and swears. “Careful,” Andrew says, not louder than a speaking voice but not too quiet to be heard in the silence of Neil’s apartment. “Would be a shame if you died from cracking your head open after all these years.”

He hears Neil’s movements stop, and then the sound of quick feet, and then Neil is rounding the corner into the kitchen, sweaty and flushed from his run. He stares at Andrew for a minute before getting that _look_ that Andrew absolutely loathes. “You’re here,” he says, unnecessarily.

Andrew gestures vaguely to himself with a flick of his fingers. _So I am_.

Neil crosses the space to stand almost between Andrew’s legs, spread from the way he sits on the counter. He’s taller than Neil like this, a vantage point he could very well get used to. He looks down into Neil’s stupidly happy face, not comprehending how his mere presence is enough to change Neil’s normally serious and brooding expression into… _this_. His eyes are shining and his mouth has taken on that slight tilt that holds the place of the smile he can’t bear in his reflection.

Andrew hates him. He wants to smash his fist down into his face and see how easily the expression shatters.

“I didn’t know you were coming this weekend,“ Neil says, unaware of how much Andrew hates him, or more likely simply not caring.

“I wasn’t planning on it,“ Andrew says in response, opening his legs a touch wider and pulling Neil to the counter by the sweaty collar of his tee. Neil braces his arms on either side of Andrew’s hips, not touching.

“Why did you then?“ The cheer on his face is dimmed somewhat, but still present, and his eyes have taken on a shrewd look. His favorite puzzle is Andrew, and for some reason Andrew has never been able to stop himself from giving Neil the ciphers needed to solve him.

He shrugs a shoulder. “I got bored.” That is the least of it, but he leans down slightly and hovers his face over Neil’s, mouths almost touching. “You stink. Go shower.”

Neil smirks, and Andrew can feel the phantom of it against his own lips. “If only I had the motivation to.”

Andrew clicks his tongue. “Must you always be spoon fed?”

“You know me; I work best with positive reinforcement.“

He sighs and leans down the rest of the way to press their lips together, hard but shorter than either of them want. “Now go. Your dripping sweat is not attractive.”

Neil hums and looks up at him from under his eyelashes. “What do I have to look forward to when I do?”

“You are _not_ cute,“ Andrew growls. He grabs Neil’s head and kisses him more firmly this time, opening his mouth and stroking Neil’s tongue with his own before he pulls fully away.

Despite his stupid heavy-lidded, dazed-eye look, Neil smirks again when he says, “I never said I was cute.” Andrew’s jaw twitches and Neil smiles fully and briefly, an expression of reckless happiness, before retreating to the bathroom and shutting the door.

Andrew can count on two hands the number of times he’s seen Neil truly, uninhibitedly smile over the past seven years he’s known him. It makes Andrew’s traitorous heart stutter in his chest every single time, and sitting here, on the counter in Neil’s kitchen, where soon they’ll make and eat dinner together and then kiss instead of doing the dishes immediately like they should, he feels his own lips twitch in response.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Andrew wakes from a nightmare, which is not talked about in detail.

When they'd first started sharing beds, it had to be a very careful thing. Forever cognizant of what parts of their bodies lay against each other, and carefully crafting pockets of space between the rest. The closeness hadn't come until later, only a little while before they graduated. Nightmares were common, and they were both used to startling awake in bed before getting their bearings and coaxing each other back into resting until the sun rose.

Nightmares aren't as common for them anymore, but they still exist, and so Neil isn't terribly shocked when he's ripped from sleep by the feeling of Andrew shooting away from him in bed.

The startling thing is the broken sound that escapes Andrew as he tears his way into wakefulness.

" _Please!_ "

It's hoarse and ragged and terrified, like someone had forcibly pulled the word out of him. He'd jerked hard enough to put inches of space between them, and Neil lays still and watches as he comes back to himself, his own breath caught in his throat.

"Neil." Andrew's voice is still wrong, still desperate and frightened and angry, too much the way he sounded all those years ago in that hotel room in Baltimore. He turns to Neil and scrabbles amongst the sheets, looking for him. " _Neil."_

"Andrew," Neil says, sliding a hand forward against the sheets so he could hear and seek it out if he wanted. "I'm here."

"Neil-" He grabs Neil's hand and starts following the line of his arm and then freezes. Neil can hear the click of his throat as he swallows. "Can I-"

"Yes," Neil says. "Always yes, Andrew."

He doesn't argue with that the way he always does. Instead, he stays silent as he searches over Neil's scarred skin, almost desperately, as if making sure he's in one piece. His fingers flit over his body, up his neck until they're cupping his face.

He can feel Andrew's breath on his face, too fast, and see the reflection of light in his eyes from the open blinds. He reaches up, slowly, and lays his hands against the backs of Andrew's, holding them to his face. Andrew pushes their foreheads together and takes a gulping breath.

Neil keeps his breathing even, keeps his eyes on Andrew. He doesn't know what Andrew was dreaming of, doesn't think it could have been the usual things because this isn't the usual reaction.

"I'm here," he repeats, trying to help Andrew any way he can. "I'm right here. We're in bed in our apartment. Do you want me to keep talking?"

Silence. And then a whispered, "Yes."

Neil talks. _Sir did something funny today_ , and _did Kevin send you that link as well_ , and _it was pretty chilly today_ , and _I think we should switch to almond milk just to give it a try-_

A while later, after both their breathing is calmer, Andrew hums. Neil goes quiet, waiting for him to speak. When he does, it makes his stomach churn.

"They got you. In my dream. They had you."

A little part of Neil wants to ask _who_ , ask which of their monsters prevailed in Andrew's dreams, but the smarter part of him (thankfully becoming more dominant these days), knows that it doesn't truly matter in this moment. He settles for laying his scarred fingers against Andrew's stubbly cheek, listens to the sigh that touch elicits. "It's just you and me here. This is our space, and it's only you and me and the cats."

"You and me," Andrew repeats. His hand travels to rest against Neil's neck, the butt of his palm resting over his pulse point.

"And the cats," Neil says, and holds back a smile when Andrew shoots him a flat look. He closes his eyes and smooths his thumb back and forth over the swell of Andrew's cheekbone. "You can come closer if you want."

Andrew doesn't ask again to make sure, the second sign to Neil that Andrew is desperate to touch him. As they get older and Andrew grows farther from the traumas of his childhood and late adolescence, it's easier for him to reach out just for the sake of it. Neil has realized that Andrew is actually very affectionate. This is different, though. This is Andrew _needing_ the touch, needing to feel Neil's skin on his own, and it hits Neil hard: this is Andrew seeking physical comfort from him.

They end up with Neil half beneath Andrew, their legs intertwined. Andrew's head is ducked down on Neil's bumpy chest, his arms snug around Neil's middle. Neil raises his arms slightly, unsure, but Andrew mumbles a "yes" into his skin so Neil settles them around his bare shoulders.

It's very warm, and very comfortable. Neil can feel Andrew's heartbeat and is sure that Andrew's listening to his own. "Do you think you'll be able to go back to sleep?" he asks, willing his eyes to stay open even as he feels himself melt into the mattress.

"No," Andrew says. His voice has calmed, almost back to its normal timbre "You can. I'm okay like this."

"Are you sure?" Neil asks, even as his eyes close.

"Yes, Neil. Go back to sleep." He presses a light kiss into Neil's skin and lays his head back down.

It's the last thing Neil feels before he falls back asleep. When he wakes up to the sunlight reaching in through the window, they're still mostly in the same position, and Andrew is snoring lightly against his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Moving these here from my Tumblr, which you can find [here](http://1980salienboi.tumblr.com/)


End file.
